


oh how the tables have turned

by arexnna



Series: lost stars [20]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I swear, The Ruby/Killian Is Platonic, To Those Who Aren't Ruby/Killian shippers at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4462877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arexnna/pseuds/arexnna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>aka the one where Emma Swan is on the opposite end of the ‘fake marriage’ au spectrum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Killian Jones is getting married._

Ask her a year ago, a month ago, a  _day_ ago –  _hell,_ even  _a minute_ ago and those four words would be the last words she’d think she would ever hear. But this one tops the charts:

_Killian Jones is getting married to Ruby Lucas._

And it isn’t that she hasn’t seen them ( _her, Killian’s been MIA, but she guesses it’s her fault after all_ ) since their studying days, isn’t that she hasn’t  _tried_  rekindling the bond the three of them used to share, not that every couple of months she doesn’t invite Ruby out for noncommittal coffee dates, so while things may not be the same as it used to be, the news is pretty much the last thing she expects to hear.

Or read.

On  _Facebook_.

And as they’ve drifted apart, or more  _she’s_ drifted  _from_ them, having to find out that they were getting  _married_ , or even that they were  _together_  in the first place via the internet fucking sucks.

But she’s a mature adult, mind you, and as mature adults do, she asks Ruby out for lunch to  _catch up_ and from her awkward  _‘haha, yeah sure!’_  she can vaguely tell that Ruby can hear the bitterness masked in her voice.

And so here she sits, awaiting Ruby’s arrival with drumming fingers, a fidgeting foot and about thirty different openings as to how to bring up the  _‘so, you’re getting married to Killian Jones’_ conversation.

And when she does arrive, all those dozens of icebreakers vanish right from her mind because looking like  _that_ , it’s no question why Killian hadn’t put a ring on her finger sooner. It seems while time has only made Emma bitter, it’s been treating Ruby just fine.

“ _Wow_ ,” It falls from her lips as she eyes her six-inch heels matched with her dark leggings and a rich maroon peplum.

And she swears that the last time she saw her, ( _given it_ was  _a year or two ago_ ) she didn’t look  _this_ good, almost as though there’s the fucking sun trailing behind her as she walks. Or perhaps it’s the post-proposal glow.

Probably.

( _Stop being bitter, stop being bitter_. __)

“Don’t  _wow_ me! Look at you!” Her cheeriness hasn’t died down the slightest since the last time ( _it figures_ ) and Emma barely has time to deny the compliment before she’s being pulled into Ruby’s famous 20 second long hug-and-sways.

She’s all smiles when they settle across each other, dark red lips grinning broadly at her and boy has Emma missed having a girl friend.

And Elsa’s great fun, always being there to listen to Emma’s rants and almost always giving the best advice, ( _except for that one time she got Emma to deliver a bag of flaming dog shit to Walsh’s front door_ ) but  _God_ is the woman lazy to do  _girly_ things. It’s not even that Emma craves shopping sprees and gossip sessions whilst getting manicures, it’s just sometimes  _nice_ to be forced into doing those things.

(There’s also Anna, but the girl talks far too much for her own good, and her voice doesn’t quite make for a good retail therapy playlist.)

She finds out that Ruby’s working for EDIT Magazine, a side of the fashion industry Emma didn’t expect she’d work for. Now her part-time modelling days are over ( _‘Since I didn’t see myself being a VS Angel, I didn’t quite see the point in carrying on’_ ) she’s moved towards photography and editing, making Emma vaguely recall how much she enjoyed being behind the camera as much as she did in front.

She learns that Mrs. Lucas had passed a couple years back, a tiring fight against cancer of the pancreas lost, leaving only Ruby and her grandmother in the Lucas household ( _the place she’d often slept over at during the holidays, the whole house giving out an aura of strong women_ ).

Emma’s told a lot – probably already caught up with the moments she’s missed, save for stories of the Ruby/Killian relationship which she makes sure to keep an ear out for, hoping that she doesn’t have to be the one to bring it up.

But seeing as their conversation drifts from what she’d hoped they’d discuss ( _not that she doesn’t enjoy this easy conversation going between them, it’s just – she_ needs  _answers_ ), after deep thought, she finally plucks up the courage and edges the subject into their talk, hoping against hoping that Ruby will see and catch on.

“So, how’s Killian doing? I haven’t seen him in a while,” she adds, trying for casual, but Emma Swan has never been good with subtlety. And whether or not Ruby notices ( _she thinks not_ ), she doesn’t show it.

“Jones? That old bastard?” –  _it was a running gag between the three of them – him having took two gap years between college and university had dragged him back a couple of years, forcing him to hang out with people two years his junior (a.k.a Emma and Ruby), which also only meant that the girls had sworn an oath to never let a_ ‘you alright, grandpa?’  _joke slide –_ “He’s doing fine – quite a big hotshot in this top engineering company I can’t even pronounce the name of, and…  _he’s happy_. He wouldn’t give it up for the world,” she mentions with a soft smile, a look of admiration glinting in her eyes, “Took over Liam’s workshop too. Whenever he doesn’t have a project at work, the only place I can find him is in there working on the newest boat he’d designed either for himself or a client.”

Her lip twitches at that. A flare of pride runs through her when hearing that, and she’s so glad that he seems happy. That’s all she’s ever wanted for him.

Seeing it as the best and probably only chance to bring it up, “ So, you and him,” leaving the end hanging for her to pick up.

“Oh.” There’s a flicker of something across her face, but just a second later, a bright smile is in place of it instead. “Yeah, he –  _uh_  – proposed last week. We tried keeping it on the down low, but Will – you remember Will, right? – he got a little too tipsy and five minutes after we told him to not tell anyone, the whole of Facebook knew.”

_Yeah, I was part of that whole of Facebook._

“I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” she apologises, a rueful grimace on her, and it’s either Emma was stupid enough to say it out loud or Ruby knows her just that well ( _even after all these years_ ). “I really did want to call you up, but you beat me to it.”

“It’s  _fine_ , Ruby,” she takes her hand in hers, “I’m just so happy for the two of you,” she smiles and she really does think she means it. And as much as she does believe she’s genuine, she’s not ready to go into details as the their relationship as much as she’d convinced herself that that was why she was here in the first place. “Guessing Liam moved back to London?”

Ruby furrows her brows, jerks her head back the slightest with a confused look, and  _fuck_ , she knows she’s missed out on an important detail.

“ _Emma_ , Liam- Liam died.”

Whatever condolences her scrambled mind could think of is stopped by the dryness in her throat, a sudden lost of words once what Ruby says fully registers. She stares dumbfounded, unsure how she should react and if she can even do anything besides blink and gawk.

“He got into an accident when he went back to visit his in-laws, and he fell into a coma,” Ruby explains without Emma having to ask. “Killian tried to stay, but he’d have gotten fired. So he’d fly back every weekend.  _God_ , he was a mess – drank himself dry, barely slept a wink, and he smelled like  _shit_. Took awhile, but he and Liam’s wife agreed on another month on life support before –“ she pauses, gives her a sad look and, “- you know.”

“How is he now?”

“It’s been a couple of years, and I guess he’s doing better. Going back to his normal self, but you know, there’s still something different about him –“

“Lucas!”

She knows the booming voice, recognizes the lilting accent, and she’s almost a hundred percent sure that when she turns around to the source she’ll find exactly who she suspects it is.

“I’ve been looking for your sodding arse all over town-“ his voice grows louder as he approaches, the goosebumps on her skin rise with each step he takes closer towards her, her ears ring with the sound of the metal of the chair sliding against the linoleum as he pulls up a seat, “- Excuse my language, lass,” he vaguely apologises to Emma, his gaze flitting towards her for just under a moment before, “- but as I was saying, I went all the way to your bloody place and turns out you’re right—“

His sentence halts, his whole body on pause as though he’s frozen while the world continues to move around him. She’s already preparing herself, squeezing her eyes shut in hopes that if she tried hard enough, she could possibly magic her way out of this.

But  _nope_  – magic belongs in fairytales and  _Harry Potter_  and seeing as she’s not Bellatrix Lestrange, apparating out of here doesn’t seem likely anytime soon.

“Emma Swan?”

It’s said in disbelief, almost as though he’d just seen a ghost, and it very much could be so, given how she’d up and gone without a trace, no goodbye, and (supposedly) no regrets. And while she’s to be the ghost in the situation,  _god_ has that moment haunted her even after all these years.

There isn’t a clichéd rush of old memories running through her, no last moments that she dwells about constantly flashing before her eyes – there’s only him, sitting in front of her with confused and broken eyes, him with the unsure smile and the crinkling brow. Him who she’d left all those years ago.

And despite the chatter filling the café – the clink of fork against knife, the yell of food orders being thrown about – there only remains a muted ringing in her ears. So she can only lie to say that the noise is what throws her off, it’s the conversation about college fees between father and daughter on the table adjacent to them is what keeps her unable to form an intelligible sentence.

So thank god for Ruby, oh sweet Ruby who’s been sent from above, for cutting the tension, the whatever  _that_ was, for breaking the ice, for stopping that train wreck from happening.

“I thought I texted you,” she interrupts nothing, and slowly both Emma’s and Killian’s attentions turn back to the now at the sound of her voice, both their eyes leaving each other’s to focus on Ruby.

With a little shake of his head, “Uh, no – I didn’t get it.” She watches as he takes a moment, blinking repeatedly as though he can’t believe his eyes, Ruby (not so) subtly nodding her head in Emma’s direction in a motion that she pretends she doesn’t see. “Right, uh – How’ve you been, Swa- lass-  _Swan_?”

Swallowing down nothing, she uses that to buy time, not that the time bought even help build a strong answer anyway. “Yeah, I’m good, good,” she manages, and that’s about all he’s getting since her brain isn’t quite working too well all of a sudden. Her eyes roam everywhere except for where his are, glancing once at Ruby who now gives Emma a helping nudge. “Right, yeah – work’s been good, bruised my knee trying to get this one asshole,” she mentions, noticing how Killian’s eyes squint at that, but them clears up when Ruby nudges him and says,  _‘she’s a bails-bondsperson!’_

Conversation passes easily afterwards, almost as though things remain unchanged from how they’d left it when she’d gone, with inside jokes being brought up and old memories being revisited.

And it’s wrong, but when he smiles, instants of vertigo hits her, buried feelings even after all the years, resurface and she’s right back to forcing herself to leave, unwilling to drag him into her mess. And this is exactly why she’d called up only Ruby.  _God_ , she’d need ten more years to be ready to talk to Killian again.

But he’s getting married – to Ruby. And it doesn’t hurt her – it shouldn’t, at least. She shouldn’t also be feeling anything for her, for exactly the said reason. Ruby remains to be the best friend she’s ever had, and as much as her gut tells her there’s something  _wrong_  here, she can’t  _feel_ these things.

Her phone buzzes and she feels another pair of eyes dart to the screen.

_When are you coming home?_

When her eyes meet his again, he squints the slightest, busying himself with trailing the whirl of the coffee he’d ordered. She bites at her lips when the second message comes in, Killian not bothering to looking this time.

_Can we order pizza tonight?_

“Bloody hell,” she hears Killian say suddenly, glancing up to see him looking at his watch. “I didn’t quite realise how much time had passed – I’ve got to get back to the workshop,” he excuses, tucking in his chair. “We’ll see you at the engagement party, yeah?” he turns to her, a tight smile thrown her way, she barely has the time to nod or remotely respond before he murmurs a, “See you later, love,” pressed atop Ruby’s head, turning on his heel and walking away.

Her gaze trails after him, watches until after he disappears along the street.

“ _Oh!_  The engagement party!” Ruby squeaks, making Emma jump the slightest. “It’s next Friday and the theme’s white, but –“

She doesn’t quite listen after, giving vague  _‘oh’_ s and  _‘mhm’s_ , and it doesn’t need to be said for Emma to know how bad of a friend she is.

Ruby doesn’t deserve any of this, but it’s already been proven that Emma’s a crap friend anyway.

-/-

Later at night, she allows herself to do what she’s been avoiding for the longest of times, scrolling down their timelines and looking through their pictures and posts and little comments on Facebook.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was just being a spiteful ex- _something_ , who can’t be happy for her friends.

They kiss in pictures, she sends him flirty links and he makes suggestive comments.

She’s a bails bondsperson and part of her job is finding out information on people. She doesn’t need to be doing the job to see it’s real.

After all, it is her specialty in knowing lies from truths.

-/-

“Morning,” he mumbles, eyes squinted in attempt to shield off the 11 am sun as he leans in and kisses her on the cheek. “When did you get in?”

“Two hours ago?” she shrugs, “Granny made you some breakfast – it’s on the counter,” Ruby nods towards the door, flipping through Vanity Fair or Harper Bazaar, or whatever it is she reads with the reasoning that she’s scoping out the rivals, when really he knows she’s just a freak for fashion magazines.

He cracks a smile before making his way back into the house to get the food, appearing on the patio later with a paper bag and two cups of coffee balances precariously with one hand. “Do tell the loveliest Lucas that I love you, will you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she hums, taking a sip of the caffeine, “With all that sucking up, it’s no wonder she didn’t even bat an eye when we told her we were getting hitched.”

“About that – I really am sorry that you have to lie to her – I didn’t mean to drag you—“

“Jones, she’s a modern woman – she’ll understand when I tell her. But now… she’s just so _happy_ ,” a soft smile breaks on her face, “She hasn’t been like this since mom.”

“I know – I still am sorry,” he sends her a rueful smile, “And talking about lies-“ he adds.

“Emma.”

“ _Emma,”_ he nods.

“We have to tell her.”

“Aye.”

“At the engagement party,” she suggests.

“ _Ahh_ , that’s in under a week, lass – I think we should—“

“ _At the engagement party_ ,” Ruby presses, lips tight, eyebrows arched, and _yup, okay, they’re going with her plan._

-/-

He’s chatting with the master of the house herself when Will’s booming ‘ _Emma Swan!’_ echoes through the walls and into the living room, and with the forewarning he’d received from Ruby that she’s bringing someone with her, his hand clenches and unclenches in preparation of the handshake he’s ready to give to the bastar- to her plus one.

“ _Our_ Emma Swan?” Granny asks as though she was ever remotely his.

He forces a smile pretending that it doesn’t affect him, “Aye, _the_ Emma Swan,” he corrects, but she doesn’t notice, instead huffing about how she’s going to give that girl a smack on the head after hugging the life out of her.

He lingers, starting up conversations with idle guests, buying his time before he has to face both Emma and the music. But even talking to others, his ears prick every time he hears the lightness in her laugh echo through the house

And after enough torment on his part, he excuses himself, vaguely saying he has other guests to attend to and finding his way towards where Ruby’s uncontrollable laugh is. Because where that is, Ruby is, and where Ruby is – seeing as she’d been more excited about Emma’s return into their lives than he’d been – Emma is.

And indeed that’s where she is.

She’s got her hair down this time, and it’s much longer than what it was way back when ( _obviously, Killian_ ), the locks of hair coming down in wavy curls instead of the straight blonde he’s used to. She wears a beige sundress, one with lace at the hem that ends just under her knees, sandals that looks very much like a pair of Ruby’s Steve Maddens ( _they’ve been friends long enough for him to know these things without it being weird_ ), and bloody hell, if she’d worn a lighter colour, he suspects she’d look just like a goddamn angel.

He’s gawking probably, his mouth likely hanging open with dribble possibly leaking from his lips, and if not, she sure makes him feel like he is. But he mustn’t have been, since when her eyes meet his, he catches how a wider smile twitches at her lips.

He takes it as invitation, sliding himself between Ruby and Granny, and he swears he doesn’t mean to make Emma jealous or anything, but when his arm slides easily along Ruby’s waist, there’s a flash of something that crosses over her face.

“Tell them how you’re a bails bondsperson!” Ruby chimes in, all too excitedly.

Emma lets out a modest last, eyes flitting down momentarily and it reminds him how she never did like too much attention on her. “Yeah, I track down people for a living.”

“More like she’s a badass bounty hunter!” Killian’s ears perk at the excited voice, the distinct sound of pride and admiration laced in the words. “Tell ‘em how you chased that one guy for blocks, and then you cut him off and then you used the waiter’s tray to knock him out! _Oh!_ And tell them how we have a gun at home too!”

A choir of laughter fills the room at that, and just as Killian’s about to join, the chuckle gets stuck in his throat when his eyes dart to the source of the voice.

It’s a boy who stands just above Emma’s hip, a mop of dark, unruly brown hair that’s won the battle again hair gel, wearing a white dress shirt with dark pants that Killian notices are a little too long on him. He’s got a large grin on his face, one that he feels he recognises, one that he feels has been inherited from Emma herself.

He tenses at the realisation and Ruby feels it, her thumb drawing soothing circles on his hand.

“Seems like you told them just fine, kiddo,” Emma grins at the ( _her_ ) boy, but it begins to fade when she glances up at him, it being replaced with the same tentative look she’d worn that first day.

He schools his features, keeping a plain face on, as if this isn’t news, as if he wouldn’t have gotten a heart attack had Ruby not been there to calm his left hand from seizing up.

He wants to say something, reassure Emma that this doesn’t change anything, but just as the thought even comes into his mind, he’s saved by the bell.

It’s Jemma at the door, standing with a nostalgic smile, holding her boy with one hand and a neatly wrapped gift with the other. “It’s good to see you,” she says, pressing a kiss to his cheek before carrying the boy into Killian’s arms.

“’ello, little lad,” Killian grins, following behind as Jemma makes her way into the house, “How’s my favourite boy?”

“Missed you, Killy,” Charlie mumbles into his chest, the long drive straight from the airport seeming to take a toll on the little guy. “And Ruby and Granny too!”

A laugh rumbles in his chest, “Alright, alright – but promise me one thing?”

“Mhm?”

“When you see Granny, be sure to call her ‘Greatgranny’, okay? That’ll right piss her off.”

-/-

“Hey!” he bumps into her at the shoulder of the corridor, “I’ve been meaning to catch you alo- _oh_ , hey there buddy,” a smile breaks on Emma’s face at the sight of Charlie in Killian’s arms.

“Say ‘hi’ to your Aunt Emma, lad,” Killian bounces him on his arm.

“’ello, Aunt Emma,” he repeats, sticking his hand out for a handshake that she takes with a grin. But his attentions are quickly deterred when he hears Ruby’s voice, squirming out of Killian’s arms and running towards the sound, am _‘Aunt Ruby!’_ echoing behind him.

“Was that-?”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but it’s ‘ _Liam’s boy?’_ that she means to continue with.

“Aye.”

“He’s got the curls,” she mentions, her smile lingering on her face.

“That he does.” He speaks the truth, but it still hurts sometimes to look at Charlie – to look and see a replica of his brother smiling toothily at him.

“About kids—“

“Is Henry why you left?”

He’s not in the mood for dancing, jumping straight into it. It haunted him for years, the reason behind why she’d up and gone, and seeing her boy next to her, he doesn’t bother for sugarcoating.

“Partly,” she says and it’s the truth. It’s also all he’s getting today. He knows this for a fact.

“Do you know who the father is?”

Her eyes flit from her fidgeting feet up to his, a forced smile being pulled on her face. “Neal.”

“Cassidy?”

She nods.

“Is he helping out?”

She shakes her head. “He did for a while, but – you know,” she shrugs.

“Never did like the bastard,” he murmurs as he feels his jaw clench and his fists tighten.

“Hey, _hey_ ,” he catches how her hand makes a move up, almost as if she were going to try sooth out the tension in him – but it hesitates and falls back to her side. “We managed fine. Ingrid helped out and he turned out a great kid either way. We didn’t need him for Henry to grow up well.”

“I don’t doubt that, love,” he shakes his head, “but you must know that we- we would’ve helped, we would’ve been there for you.”

“I know.”

There’s something else in her voice, something that tells her that there’s more than just that.

He doesn’t press.

-/-

They decide not to tell her, not yet.

 _Well,_ Ruby protests, he decides.

-/-

He wakes up to a slap in the face. Ruby’s slap, his face.

“Jeez, wake _up_.”

He blinks a couple times, acclimating his eyes to the morning light before sitting up with a grumbled, “I’m up, bloody hell woman.

“I told Granny,” she lets out in a breath.

“What- _why?”_

“ _Because_ ,” she presses, shoving Killian to move further into the bed so she can settle next to him, “I said I’d do it after the party – and _I_ for one, keep to my word.”

He groans, but ignores her jab nonetheless, “What did she say?”

Her lips twitch, somewhere between a frown and a smile, “Said she understands, but she looked… disappointed. Like she really wanted this for me.”

“It’s not too late to cancel the whole thing – I don’t want you to—“

“ _Jones_ , I’d do anything for you – Let me do this for you.” Her voice is soft and he knows this Ruby, knows the tone she uses shows her sincerity – a Ruby she hides most of the times, but when it peeks out, it’s a bloody gem. “I just—“

“I know, love.” He pulls her closer, lets her head fall on his shoulder as his lies atop hers. “I really am sorry though.”

-/-

They’re telling her today. They’re telling her today.

And before Ruby claims he’s being melodramatic, he swears he fears for his life. If there’s one thing he knows, even after all these years – it’s Emma. And he very well knows how she deals with lies – how she runs at even the sight of the word.

He’s worked far too hard over the past two weeks to get their friendship almost back to where it used to be all those years ago for it to go down the drain over this.

“You’re sweating,” Ruby throws him a box of tissues that he fumbles to catch.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, dabbing off the moisture on his forehead.

“We’ve been putting it off far too much with you finding the worst excuses not to tell her –“ ( _The first time they’d invited her over to supposedly break the news, he said they couldn’t do it since she’d brought Henry along. The next time, he wasn’t feeling too up for it because of a bad day at work, which ‘may lead him to being cranky and not handling the situation too well’. This time, he’d tried getting away with saying that he’d cut his hand and he couldn’t possibly tell her news like this with him bleeding—_ ) (She’d stopped him there, disallowing him from concocting whatever bullshit he was about to) “- so, I’m putting my foot down. We’re doing this _today.”_

He wants to argue, but Ruby’s a woman on a mission when she sets her mind to something. “Fine,” he caves with a petulant frown. “How would we even bring it up? _‘How’s dinner? Good? Good. Hey, also, we forgot to mention, but we’ve been kind of lying to you this whole time. But the chicken tastes great, dunnit!’”_ At the empty look on Ruby’s face, he guesses she’s unamused, but he’s an idiot, and so he continues, “Or maybe something like—“

“What’re we lying to me about, again?”

He watches as Ruby’s face drops, how when she turns her head, an exasperated look replaces the previous one. When he turns, there stands Emma with arms folded and something much less than happy on her face.

“How did you—“

“Granny let me in.”

He half wants to curse Granny, half wants to kick himself all the way back to London. But Emma just fully wants an explanation and he’s not sure he’s able to voice one out for her.

“Are you guys going to tell me, or?”

He very much considers the blank latter.

-/-


	2. Chapter 2

She doesn’t have the right to feel betrayed – _God_ , she doesn’t, especially after what she’s done to them, but the accusing word itches to fall from her mouth.

There’s two parts of her brain processing the news – the rational and the irrational. The rational tells her that _at least_ they told her, rather than keeping it to themselves, keeping her completely out of the loop and keeping up the charade – that they didn’t quite have a reason to trust her with the information at first, not after being MIA for so long. The rational side seems to also be her inner optimist.

But the words reach the irrational side first, the side that warns off the alarm bells, the side that screams _liars, liars, liars._

“I want to talk to Ruby.”

She takes it as a win when her voice doesn’t shake, that her words aren’t driven with anger and bitterness.

Killian opens his mouth to argue, but it snaps back shut when Ruby nods and Emma glares.

“Why?” she asks when it’s just the two of them. The single word carries a lot, a loaded question, but Ruby has always been a sharp shooter anyway.

“Because he’s my best friend.”

It’s the truth, but it’s not enough. Half-truths are just as bad as lies and Emma doesn’t do well with lies or liars.

“There’s more than that.”

But Ruby doesn’t budge. “What do you want me to say?”

“The _truth_ , Ruby! There are—“

“It is the truth!”

“—other ways of getting around this without committing goddamn _fraud_ – do you know how much trouble the two of you could get—“

“We _both_ know the reason you’re opposed to this is not because of the law—“

“—into? You could land your asses in prison if you get—“    

“—don’t make this about other things, when—“

“— _caught—“_

“—we _both_ know you’rejust fucking _jealous!”_

She hesitates, Ruby’s mouth opening and closing at the words she’d blurted out, but she doesn’t take them back. “You’re upset that Killian – the guy you _still_ feel is your endgame – is getting married. You’ve got this whole thing concocted in your head that after months of denial, he and I are going to fall in love and live happily ever after, and you’re pissed off that even after the _shit_ you put him through, he’s going to _finally_ move on. But guess what, Emma? This isn’t _The fucking Proposal_ and neither one of us are Sandra Bullock or Ryan Reynolds. I don’t love him like that, and he doesn’t love me like that either!”

“Then why are you doing it?” Her question doesn’t dispute Ruby’s argument, both knowing how transparent it would be to fight her words. “He could go back to London first- he could sort out his work visa and come back _legally_. The two of you wouldn’t have to lie—“

But Ruby shakes her head furiously at her reasoning, “You don’t get it, do you?” she asks exasperatedly. “He _can’t_ go back – _‘home’_ is tainted for him. Did you know he hasn’t been back there since Liam’s funeral? He can’t even bring himself to visit his grave. He _can’t_ go back,” she repeats.

“If you really want to know why I’m doing this it’s because he’s my best friend,” Ruby’s voice is softer, but no less fueled with anger, “I’ve lost one already – I won’t survive losing another one.”

If that doesn’t make her feel like a total bitch for even feeling such things in the first place, she doesn’t know what will. She’d had her head stuck so far up her ass that she couldn’t see that Ruby needed this as much as Killian did.

She pushes out a long breath, her shoulders falling and her lips softening. “Ruby…” she sighs, “I’m so sorry, I know what I did was shitty and I—“

“You know when you called me up that first day – I _knew_ , _I knew_ why you were calling,” she shuts her eyes and shakes her head the slightest, “that you were only calling because of _him_ – but I didn’t give two shits, because I’ve _missed_ you. And for a moment, I thought maybe you did want to catch up, maybe you do want to make things right – but you mentioned him and- and I- you didn’t want to talk to me at all that day. It was all him.”

“Ruby, you know I came back for you too—“

She scoffs, a harsh and unapologetic scoff, and Emma tries not to flinch. “It’s just the two of us here, Emma. Who exactly are you trying to kid?”

-/-

She finds him out on the porch when he stops her from following Ruby after storming out from the place entirely, and as much as she feels the need to chase her and sort things out, she understands that space is needed – on both ends and not just on Ruby’s.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” she remarks, the strong smell of burning cigarettes in her nose when she steps out.

He turns and he hesitates, seeming like he’s about to put it out but stops himself. “Yeah, I- uh, started when things went,” he says it all as though he’s ashamed, “… _bad_.”

She nods her head because there’s really nothing she can say to contribute to that. “So – you’re getting fake-married,” she says because that’s really the only thing she has on her mind.

“It’s either that or—“

“You get deported,” she nods, “I get it. When does your visa expire?”

“Three months,” he answers, staring down at his shuffling feet, his vacant hand stuffed into his pocket.

“When’s the wedding?”

He glances at his watch, “Just over two months.”

“And the authorities?”

“They haven’t quite approached me – I was cleaning out my place and I found my documents, and thank god I did when I did.” He shrugs his shoulders vaguely, “Ruby was the one that offered – I refused, she insisted, I refused again, and _then_ she threatened me and what could I say?”

She nods slowly, “My talk with Ruby didn’t go the way I expected it to,” she mentions, leaning against the wooden railing.

“I assumed as much – especially when she stole my keys and drove off with my car.”

When she declines the cigarette he offers, he sits across her, on that old, mahogany chair that’s been there for God knows how long, on the edge of the seat with his knees pushed open and his elbows propped on them. “Just give her time to cool off.”

“I don’t know, it’s just- shouldn’t I be the one that’s mad?”

“Not to stir up more trouble, but – why should _you_ be mad?” Killian says and there’s only brutal honesty that she finds in his voice. She knows she came into this conversation for the truth, but _god_ does it hurt. “You left us eight years ago,” he states as a fact, “I got into trouble and so Ruby helped me. She has the right to be angry- she should be pissed.”

It hits her hard, and it must show when he quickly jumps to his feet and moves to reach out to her.

“Emma, I didn’t mean it—“

“No, no – you’re right. I just- Why aren’t _you_ pissed?” She shrugs his hand away and looks him hard in the eye. “I told her I had to go, I said _goodbye_ – but- but I left _you_. I didn’t say anything and I left. Why haven’t you yelled at me?”

He lets out a laugh, some hybrid between self-deprecating and tired, and with a smile and a shaking head, he sits back down. “You could run me over once, then twice more, and I still couldn’t be angry at you.”

It scares her, the utter sincerity in his voice, how genuine his eyes bore into hers and her mouth goes suddenly dry.

And he notices.

“Also, I figured if you had to leave like that, it was for something big, and then I couldn’t stay _really_ mad at you for long.”

She knows why he added that, knows that he knows she’d likely run at his confession, and he’s right to – it soothes her nerves, her hands don’t itch to shun him away and her feet don’t try to walk away.

“The world needs more people like you, Killian Jones.”

“Aye, and the same can be said about you.”

-/-

A week passes since her row with Ruby and still she hasn’t talked to her. And it isn’t for a lack of trying – on her part at least.

This being said _with_ Killian trying to help mend things. He’s invited them both over his place (along with some others – _David and Mary Margaret,_ Emma remembers, a too-nice couple that Killian’s been friends with for years apparently – to try and water down the awkwardness) in a sorry attempt to get them to smooth things over. But apparently, Ruby’s cooling off period this time is longer than either one of them had expected.

“What time’s Ruby coming?” She’s pouring herself some juice from his fridge, some low sugar, low fat, low fun health-freak type juice, while he fiddles about with the oven, intent on showing her his ‘ _famous pesto lasagna’_ that apparently _everyone drools over_ – and since when did he become this health conscious guy, anyway? “And you do know all these healthy foods won’t cancel out all the Tabaco and tar you inhale, right?”

“I smoke _on occasion_ , Swan,” he presses, “I’m not an addict. And you won’t feel the same way after you taste this masterpiece,” he grins, full of pride and vanity. “And Ruby’s not coming – it’s alright, right? Just you and I? If not I can invite Will or—“

“Calm down, Jones – I don’t mind,” she assures him, a soft laugh comes from her lips before making her way out to the patio. “And I don’t think I have enough energy to put up with Will today.”

“You’re right about that,” he calls out, following her out and settling in the chair next to her. “Where’s Henry tonight?”

“With Ingrid – said she hasn’t seen her grandkid in awhile, when he’d sleptover just last week,” Emma shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she says, “Then she’d tried conjuring up some tears, and so, Henry’s at hers now.”

Killian lets out a quiet chuckle, eyes crinkled as he mutters something like, ‘That woman’s always had a flair for the dramatics’.

“Can I ask you something?” she says, accepting the beer he offers as he nods. “Doesn’t Ruby have like- you know—“

“Better things to do than to marry me?” he finishes, his eyebrow arched as he takes a sip from the bottle.

“ _Yeah_.”

 “Well, since Peter, she hasn’t quite wanted to date anyone – she always felt that he was _the one_ – can you believe it?” he grins, a mixture of pride and disbelief in his smile, “ _Our_ Ruby, falling in love. But I told her it was doomed from the start. So, really, any offer – and she gets a lot of those – put on the table, they’re not taken up,” he shrugs as he tips the drink up and past his lips again.

She does the same, her gaze turns and it’s trained on his backyard, the garden lights barely complimenting the landscape he’s got going, it’s rays only just showing an outline of the plastic slide he’d said he bought for when Charlie comes over. “What happened between them?” she asks vaguely, her lips curling softly upwards at the thought of Killian simply buying a whole playground set on the rare occasions that his nephew visits.

“He passed,” it’s in a hushed murmur that he speaks it, breaking her from her thoughts and _great, another death she didn’t know of_.

“How?”

“Well, she-“ he shakes his head, “It’s not my story to tell.”

“Right,” she agrees, taking a long swig of her drink, “ _God_ , what else have I missed?” Emma mentions lightly, huffing out a laugh that she sends his way.

His lips curl upwards in a reminiscent smile, his head bowing and his eyes remaining trained to the beer label his thumb picks at. A moment passes, and then two, and then as soft the evening’s wind, he says, “I fell in love.”

It falls from his mouth lightly, but _God_ does it hit her hard.

She swears she tries, but her lips can’t help but to part, her brows can’t stop its furrow, and her eyes can’t dry its tears.

She assumes he notices, but he’s too nice- too _Killian_ to stare and ask, so instead he forces himself to look away. She’s thankful for it – it gives her time to blink away the moisture and to realign her hanging jaw.

“What was she like?” Emma successfully says without completely breaking down, and she takes it as a victory.

His smile is sad, and just as she’s about to take back her question, “Her name was Milah,” he says, his eyes meet hers, but they’re no longer that sparkling blue, a mellow blue replacing it, instead. “She was brilliant – fiery and strong and independent – perhaps too independent for me-“ he chuckles here, “-anyway, I thought she was the one for me,” he pauses, “She wasn’t.”

“What happened?”

“We were in different places in our lives,” he answers. “She was working in London, I was between jobs. We’d been together for a little over six months when I got this job offer here, and you can imagine how excited I was – being able to work with these great people, being close to Liam. So, I asked her to come with me.”

“She didn’t want to?”

He pauses. He shakes his head.

A sad smile pulls at his lips, “She did,” he murmurs, his eyes flitting up to meet hers. “She was willing to move to another continent with me, willing to drop everything to be with me, but –“ he pauses, tongue slipping out to wet his lips, “- it wasn’t until the last moment that I found out she had a husband, _and_ a kid.”

“ _Killian_ ,” she lets out, her hand reaching for his.

He twines his fingers with hers with such ease that she can’t help but keep her eyes trailed on the gesture.

“The look on that boy’s face, the confusion in his big, _brown_ eyes,” (she _feels_ him shudder), "I couldn’t let her leave – not when I saw how much of a mess his father was. That man, he could not have taken care of the boy on his own – not in that state. He reminded me so much of—“

He breaks off and pries his hand away, moving to scrub his face.

“Yeah, I know,” she says, and there’s a quiet understanding. “So, you let her go,” she says in a statement, but he nods anyway, “It was the right thing to do, Jones – you couldn’t let that kid live like how we did,” she presses, hoping he hears the reassurance in her voice.

“It didn’t matter, anyway,” he bows his head, “Someone told me that she left them anyway, some six months after I moved. Like I said,” Killian smiles, “she was too independent for her own good.”

There isn’t much to say afterwards, she doesn’t speak and nor does he. So, they sit, her hand moving to lay on his lap and a soft smile falling on his face when she does.

When she goes home, she’s filled with a mix of feelings. It’s a hurricane of emotions, bits of anger and sadness, and unwanted jealousy rises in her.

But just as she drifts off into sleep, just before she falls into the night, one thing’s for sure – she’s got to fix her relationship with Ruby.

-/-

It’s easy to find her. Killian had told Emma that she could be at one of two places, the first being in that same café on that very first day, or hiding out at park – which is exactly where she finds her, a book in her hand and a coffee by her side.

“Are you really reading that?” Emma asks, nodding at the _Fifty Shades of Grey_ that she’d got her nose shoved so far into.

Her eyes flit up and Emma sees how she refrains herself from rolling her eyes, and instead letting her hand fall to her lap revealing another book within. “No,” she answers. “It scares off men from their sorry pick-up lines, and the ones that still approach me – it’s an easy tell for me to completely avoid them.” Emma laughs and Ruby smiles. “It’s complete filth.”

She ruffles through her bag, pulling out a packed sandwich, “I brought a peace offering,” she gives her a crooked smile along with the food.

Ruby arches her brow, “Is that roast beef?”

Emma nods, “With whole-meal,” she adds.

“You make it hard for me to hate you,” she grins, accepting the sandwich and letting the books fall to the bench between her lap and her coffee.

Emma eyes the hidden _Of Mice And Men_ , and she remembers how much of an avid reader Ruby really is, as much as she prefers to keep it hidden.

“Look-“ Emma starts, “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m listening,” she replies, chewing slowly on her food.

“For everything,” she adds. “For overreacting the other day, and for leaving with barely an explanation all those years ago. I fucked up thinking that it’d be easier to raise Henry without you and Killian, I fucked up in never calling- I fucked up with everything.”

She feels her hand being squeezed and when she looks down, it’s Ruby’s hand in hers, her thumb smoothing over her skin. “You know,” she says, “the only reason I didn’t go after you, the only reason I didn’t pull Killian out of his little pit of despair to go and get you was because Ingrid told me you needed this time alone – that you had to deal with it alone. And as much as I wanted to throw everything aside just to be there for you, I realised _why_ you left and why Killian couldn’t know.”

“You knew about Henry?”

“I knew,” she admits, “I made Ingrid give me updates on you, so I just waited until you were ready to tell us – took longer than I expected, mind you.”

“Did Killian?”

“ _No_ – we both know what would happen if he did, he would…” she drifts off.

Emma sighs, laying her head on Ruby’s shoulder. “ _Yeah_.”

“We’re okay, right?” she asks, resting her head on Emma’s, squeezing her hand again.

“You’re kidding right? _I_ should be the one asking that.”

“Yeah, but I said some pretty shitty things too-“

“Nothing that wasn’t true. Except the part where I didn’t come back for you,” Emma forces Ruby’s head back when she sits up again, “At first, _yeah_ – I called because I wanted to know about you and Killian, because I was jealous and being petty and being a completely _shit_ friend, especially since I pretty much thought the two of you were legit. But when we sat down, _God_ , do you know how much I missed that? Just the two of us talking over nothing, and just- _you know?”_ she presses, her other hand moving to Ruby’s thigh, and she nods. “It just took me longer than it should’ve for me to realize how much I’ve missed you. You’re still my person, if you’ll have me,” Emma proposes, and it’s a bigger commitment than she’s ever made with any man in her life put together.

“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?” Ruby feigns shock and surprise, her mouth hanging dramatically open, her hands just barely covering it.

“Yeah,” she grins, all wide and so very rare these days. “Ruby Lucas, will you be my person again?”

“Oh, Emma Swan – I thought you’d never ask,” Ruby’s smile is broad and shining as she wraps Emma in a hug, squeezing her tightly while she plasters a firm kiss on her cheek, pressing her lips overtly hard to her face. “I’ve missed this,” she sighs, leaning her head against Emma’s shoulder.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this too.”

-/-

“Don’t forget to make a wish!”

Emma can’t help her grin when she sees how happy Henry is, sitting in front of his birthday cake, surrounded by his friends as he blows out the candles, and all she thinks is that _this_ is what she lives for. Even if she had nothing, Henry’s joy would enough for her.

“You pulled off this whole party and you’re still standing – you really are amazing,” Ruby bumps her hip against Emma’s. “Cheers,” she toasts, clinking her plastic cup to Emma’s nonexistent one before taking a long sip.

And when she takes the drink for herself, throwing back whatever’s left of it, she jumps at the surprisingly strong taste on her tongue. “This is not apple juice.”

“Nope.”

“This is rum.”

“Yeahp.”

She laughs as she shakes her head, “Give a girl a warning the next time.”

But all Ruby does is grin widely before she skips away to Elsa who yells out for her help – the same Elsa Ruby seems to be getting on very well with, and Emma never thought it’d be this easy for her two groups of friends (as small as they are) to merge so well.

In other news, there’s been another development having to do with her two groups of friends, and for this case, she’s not too sure how much she agrees with it. Elsa and Will are dating. Well, going out on a date, but she has an extremely scary sense that that’s going to work out _really_ well and there’s going to be more dates scheduled. It’s one thing for Elsa to giggle like a schoolgirl in the courtyard when he’s around, but just how she’d asked specifically for Will to come to the party frightens her. And it’s not that he’s not a good guy, and not that he can’t be really sweet at times – it’s just that… well, Will’s- Will’s a party guy. He’s the kind of guy who throws frat parties from Monday to Sunday, and is barely ever sober. And Elsa… she’s more of a _‘let’s spend Friday night at home with takeout’_ kinda gal.

But hey, if they’re happy, she’s happy.

“Mom!” Henry’s yell pulls her away from her thoughts.

“What’s up, kiddo?” she asks, wrapping her arms around his shoulder when he comes up to her.

He’s practically bouncing on his feet and she makes a mental note to hide all the sugar from him in the next month. “Next time you’re on a stakeout, can I hang with Uncle Killian? He said he’ll show me how to build a boat! Then we can go sailing, and he’ll teach me to navigate and—“

“Woah, woah, woah,” she halts him and the bouncing stops. “Has Uncle Killian agreed to all this?”

“I was the one who suggested it, Swan,” Killian swoops in ruffling Henry’s hair with such ease that it sends odd feelings through her. “A small birthday gift from me to the boy,” he smiles down at her son who’s bouncing starts up again. “You’re welcome to join us sailing when you’re free.”

“Well,” Emma starts, looking between Henry and Killian, and two different colored eyes filled with hope stare back, “You’ll have to get pass your grandma, kid.”

“I’ll ask her now!” he says, before practically sprinting towards Ingrid and landing into her with a thud.

“That boy is truly something, lass,” Killian chuckles, sidling in next to her. “Rum?” he offers, pulling out a flask from his inner pocket of his blazer.

She lets out a laugh at the gesture, “So, that’s where Ruby got the booze.”

There’s a glint in his eyes as he smirks and says, “Did you doubt me, love?”

“You’re truly alright with me spending some time with Henry alone?” his question is tentative and there’s insecurity in his voice.

She considers him for a moment, how the tips of his ears are dipped with red, - whether from alcohol or from other reasons, she’s unsure – how his smile remains crooked with uncertainty and how his fingers rap quietly against the metal of his flask.

“I really am,” she smiles, “He needs someone like you, he’s been surrounded by women all his life I think he craves for a father fig—“

She realises what she’s said only halfway, too late in her sentence to try and cover her words.

He pauses, his mouth opening and closing in a lack of confidence before he stutters out, “Do you- do you really mean that? Because- because I really could be that for him – if you allow me, of course. I mean, I could just be around – you know, teach him football, teach him to- _all_ of that.” His hand reaches up and his fingers massage at his neck, and she knows he’s only doing that to distract his hand from scratching at his ear, knowing exactly how she’d catch that as a sign of nerves.

“You really want to be there for him?” she asks. She means, _“Do you really want to stick around?”_

“I want to be here for both of you,” he answers and it’s filled with earnest and sincerity. “You know that.”

“I-“ she starts, but ends with, “I’m sure Henry would love that.”

-/-

They’re all holed up in the kitchen – a group of seven adults cramped up in her little kitchen while they’ve sacrificed the older generation (also known as Ingrid and Granny) to kid-watch while they refuel on plenty of alcohol and birthday cake, taking a much deserved break (if you asked Emma) from the myriad of eight year olds.

She’s squished between Ruby and Kristoff, Killian leaning against the counter on the other side of Ruby while Anna, Elsa and Will stand of the other end of the island.

It’s weird – watching Elsa actively _flirt_ and actually pay attention to a guy, but what’s even weirder is seeing Will be this smiley, blushing-when-she-laughs-at-my-jokes type of guy. And both Ruby and Killian find it as equally odd, sending her silent looks over Will’s behavior.

“So, have you found a dress yet?” Anna chimes in with wedding talk and she can _feel_ Ruby tense up next to her. Since the fallout, they haven’t spoken over the marriage, or whatever it’s to be called, and at the look Ruby gives her she knows how worried her friend is to talk about the subject.

But she nods and she sees how Ruby practically deflates with relief before saying, “I think I’m just going to borrow my mother’s dress.” Her answer’s calm and well-practiced, and even for someone who prizes herself on detecting lies, Ruby covers her tracks extremely well. “We don’t really want a big wedding – it was just Granny who really wanted the engagement party and all that.”

“Oh,” Anna lets out and you can practically hear the disappointment in her voice. (The girl _loves_ weddings, and anything less than a fairytale wedding is odd to her.)

“Not _everyone_ wants a Will and Kate wedding,” Kristoff sighs, rolling his eyes to which Anna pouts at.

“Well, ours _has_ to be a Will and Kate wedding.”

“Of course,” he says, nodding as he reaches out and takes her hands in his, getting one of Anna’s blinding smiles in return.

“And this is why I’m marrying you and not Ha—“

“Let’s not talk about that asshole,” he grinds out through gritted teeth, Anna giving a sorry smile before pulling their entwined hands up to her lips and if these two kids aren’t made for each other, Emma doesn’t know what love is.

“Well,” Killian starts and she feels his hand move over Ruby’s waist and she _swears_ it’s not jealousy she’s feeling because it’s fake, it’s fake, it’s fake, she repeats to herself, “when you’ve known someone for so long, you kind of just want to skip the whole extravagant wedding part, and just straight into the married side of life.”

And then he smiles at Ruby, that one smile that’s just so _happy_ and she swears is so _real_ and she forces herself to look away – a gesture that _of course_ , Elsa catches. And at the furrow of Elsa’s brows, she forces herself to smile in the most casual way she can muster to cover up whatever feelings that were beginning to bubble up.

But when Ruby leans into him, laying her head in the crook of his neck, she isn’t sure she can take it. And before she has to make such an obvious move to leave at that exact moment, Henry runs into the kitchen to save the day.

“Avery’s mom is here!” he announces, “She wants to say thank you and hi and I don’t know what else,” Henry rambles and there isn’t a moment where she isn’t grateful for this boy.

And when she excuses herself from the room, she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, the tight ache of envy falling from her chest and she hates that she feels like this, hates that she’s jealous over something that’s not even real.

But even with both Killian’s and Ruby’s reassurances of how no real feelings are being harbored, when she sees them like that, she isn’t too sure how much she should believe them.

-/-

Later, after Anna and Kristoff have to leave, after Will has to go pick Alice up from the airport, when both Ruby and Killian return home after helping clear up, when it’s just her and Elsa alone, she braces herself for the confrontation she’s about to get from her.

And when she pulls her aside, concern and worry filled eyes staring back at her, she knows it’s happening now.

Her face is all serious and tells Emma that she means business, so _here goes_ , she thinks.

“You’re in love with Ruby.”

Not where she thought that was going.

“Wait, _what?”_

“Good, ‘cause if you’re not in love with her, it’s Killian you’re in love with.” Elsa’s voice is steady and confident and she’s always hated how perceptive she’s always been. “And now you’re in a dilemma with what to do since he’s getting married to one of your best friends and you don’t want to ruin their lives because you were the one to walk out on them in the first place and to come back in and to just confess your love for him could possibly ruin your friendship with not only him, but with her. And so, you’re—“

“Hold up,” Emma holds a hand up, “Where are you even getting all this from?”

“Do you really think a faked smile can cover up how your whole demeanor changed the moment Anna started speaking about the wedding?”

“You- you were busy talking to Will! You couldn’t have—“

“I have the senses of a best friend, I don’t need to see you to know how upset you are,” she shrugs nonchalantly. “So just tell me if it’s true – you have no idea how much I’ve always wanted to recreate the whole _My Best Friend’s Wedding_ thing- I could even pretend to be your girlfriend and get Killian all jealous and—“

“Okay, _firstly_ , I’m not in love with Killian. Secondly, they’re _both_ my best friends! How would that even work? _Also_ , Julia Roberts doesn’t even get the guy in the end!” She shakes her head before leaning tiredly back against the cool metal of the fridge. “And as flattered as I’d be to have you as my fake girlfriend, I think having to pretend with _one_ fake relationship is enough, I wouldn’t be able to deal with t—“

“ _Emma_ …”

“ _Fuck._ ”

“Emma… Who’s in a fake relationship?”

“What? _No_. No one!” she covers, but her voice only gets higher and shakier and the cover may or may not be blown.

And then Elsa gasps and, “ _Are Killian and Ruby getting fake married?!”_

_Fuck, indeed._

-/-


End file.
